


Carol of the Enterprise: A Very Star Trek Christmas

by Hades_the_Blingking



Series: Space: The Final Funtier [6]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: A Very Determined Ensign, Chekovs Russian ice cave of sin, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Confused OC, Crack, Feral Spock asphyxiation flashbacks, Fluff, Humor, Humour, I love these trashlords so much, If you're confused about Chekovs slave, Jim's hair could be a christmas star, Kirk is a lovely dramatic potato, Kirk's smoulder vs Christmas Elf, Kitten, M/M, Mccoy is a Spockblock, Merry Christmas Bitches, Mistletoe, Pon Farr asphyxiation flashbacks, Spock punches a wild animal, Sulu the matchmaking plant ninja, Sulus arctic training is that he was stuck in a snowstorm once and almost froze to death, T'pou writes fanfiction for Santa, TOS but could be AOS, Vulcan hand flirting, crying deer, eyebrow witchcraft as usual, forests of mistletoe, gratuitous redshirt death similies, ho ho hoing, literally throwing people in the trash, made in Russia, offerings of scotch and lightly toasted haggis, one day it will kill us all, read the Halloween fic, slightly threatening Santa, the Enterprise is a ridiculous ridiculous place, the Mills and Bones continues, the nipples can never be contained, the smoulder, there is nothing serious here, things Chekov has concealed under his clothes, very valid fear of the CMO, why hasn't jaegerbomb tuesday stopped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8747425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hades_the_Blingking/pseuds/Hades_the_Blingking
Summary: Tis the season to be jolly! Or is it? The Enterprise receives a very sad guest, the most recently recruited ensign swears she's losing her mind, McCoy prowls the corridors like a tribal hunter out for his next medicinal conquest and for some people, the trash is the only road to redemption. As always, Christmas, like every other day, is like nowhere else on the Enterprise - what with illogical gifts to Vulcans, Captain James T Kirk's uncontrollable nipples and an all around air of holiday space cheer, this next installment of the weirdest ship in the fleet's expeditions is not to be missed. Tune in for a laugh! :DComments are very much appreciated!





	1. Everything is Mindblowing  and Spock Gets a New Friend

**Everything is Mindblowing and Spock Gets a New Friend**

The Starship Enterprise. Persephone Cravendik could not believe her luck as she stepped aboard the ship she had only dreamed of seeing…touching…entering... Which, by a huge coincidence, were the same three things the Captain of said ship dreamed of doing to his First Officer. But Miss Cravendik did not know this. She was still innocent.  
The Starship Enterprise, though! At her science labs, they had talked so much about this hallowed ship, the jewel of Starfleet, the prize of the space armarda. Not to mention the legendary, glory-covered Captain Kirk, his formidable and terrifying First Officer Spock, and the Doctor whose hands had transcended mythology and become something the doctors whispered about in fables to their patients at night. What would she do if she met those heroes? Keep her cool. Yes. 

Crew members passed as the Alpha shift switched to Beta. Tinsel and baubles decked the hallways. Was that regulation? Well…it was coming up to Christmas. Cravendik swallowed and, clutching her belongings, walked into the room designated on her pass – and gasped.

It was freezing. At least twenty below freezing, in fact. Not an understatement. Huge red flags draped the walls, like redshirts often draped their dead bodies over the ground. She could vaguely see a hammer and sickle insignia on them through her misted breath. The song ‘Party For Everybody’ by Buranovskiye Babushki wafted through the chilly air. In the corner seemed to be a cage labelled ‘Your Lowly Servant, Oh Alpha Male’ with a being in it who was eating out of a dog bowl. What the….  
“Miss, ken I help you?” Lying shirtless on the red bed, drinking Vodka straight out the bottle with a bendy straw was who she could only recognize from the crew profiles as Ensign Pavel Chekov. Beside him was another bottle of vodka with a straw, as if he were expecting company. In the corner a large box labelled MISTLETOE: GROWN IN RUSSIA sat.  
“I – I – um, well, you see – “ She wasn’t sure whether it was the cold making her stammer or…or…how was any of this within Starfleet regulations?? Vodka?? Giant Russian flags?? How was this guy _shirtless_ in minus twenty??? Captain Kirk would surely discipline Mr Chekov if he saw this! Her colleagues had warned her about the strict regulations on the flagship. “I think I might be in the wrong room.”  
“Vell, I can say you are wery velcome here anytime, Miss..?” The bare-chested Russian sat up and fanned himself as if he were too warm.  
“I’m Cravendik.”  
A look of shock crept over the young Russian’s face. “Uuh, zat is a little, uh, forvard, don’t you zink?”  
“No, no, my _name_ is Cravendik.”  
“Oh, I see! Vell vith zat name, I hope you become a keptin one day!” He grinned and helped her with her bags. Women weren’t allowed to be captains. Well, that had been the sexist rule until James T Kirk had heorically stormed into Starfleet Headquarters and repeatedly slapped the officials yelling ‘IT’S THE 23RD CENTURY!! EVEN ROMULANS HAVE FEMALE CAPTAINS! CHANGE THIS _NOW_ ’ until they signed the paper annulling it. Now she would have the chance of being Captain Cravendik. Little did she know there was already a captain Cravendik on the ship, in a manner of speaking.  
“I’m Pavel Chekov! Come, I vill show you to your qvarters.”

They stepped back into the warmth of the corridor just as – just as…the breath nearly left her. She had to subtly lean against the wall for support. There he was. Captain James Tiberius Kirk jogging in slow motion around the corner, perfect hair glistening with a light of its own, assertive nipples exposed via a large hole ripped in his uniform. It was like an ancient Baywatch scene. Although how he was literally running in slow motion, she had no idea. 

In one of Captain Kirk’s hands was a box wrapped in Christmas paper and in the other was an old-style book. She managed a hasty salute.  
“Mr Chekov and…you must be the new science recruit, Miss Cravendik.” The Captain’s smile almost melted her. Lucky he hadn’t gone for the full Smoulder. She had heard that thing was capable of setting a Klingon vessel on fire. Something inside the box mewled and scratched. “Merry Christmas and I hope to see you about the ship or on the bridge sometime.”  
“Certainly, Captain.” Cravendik managed to choke out. To her surprise, he handed her the book, looked fervently over his manly, muscular shoulder, then set off at a normal-speed run. She looked down at the novel in her hands. It was pink and the cover picture depicted a swooning Romulan. The barely illegible title font read _‘Doctor Sexy’s Finger Fiasco and the Virgin Romulan’_.  
“Chekov, look!” A grinning Japanese man came striding round the corner, bearing what looked like a cranberry plant. He was wearing a furry winter parka. “These will go perfectly with the vod-“  
“Where in all the blue blazes he?!?!” The awe-inspiring Doctor Mccoy came skidding around the corner, a hypospray bristling in one glory-soaked hand. Cravendik could barely breathe. First the Captain had given her – well, what kind of looked like porn – and then _the_ Doctor Mccoy shows up at her part of the corridor?? The physician’s blue-eyeshadowed eyes suddenly fell upon the book clutched, kind of in shock, in her hands. “Sulu, give me that damn plant!”

The helmsman, _the man that drove the frickin Enterprise_ , the man who had been given a medal of honour for ferocious wasabi usage, the man who had created the Giant Space Foil strategy, the man who had saved the Enterprise with only bees suddenly hugged the pot, eyes wide and defensive. “Why, doctor?”  
“I’m gonna shove it so far up Jim’s ass that it’s gonna be able to start photosynthesizing again.”  
Cravendik gaped. No officer could talk about their captain like that! About Captain Kirk like that!  
“D-doctor Mccoy, I must protest!” She couldn’t let even this hero get away with..well, with insubordination!  
“Protest all you like, kiddo, so long as you ain’t planning on reading that.” Under that dangerous eyebrow, the book in her hands literally began to crumble. How…? That wasn’t even scientifically possible! Beside her, the shirtless Chekov ate a berry off Sulu’s plant and gave a groan of satisfaction. Was – was this _normal_??  
“I – I – no, I – “  
“Good. Then I’ll see you in Sickbay at 1100 hours tomorrow for your initial physical.” Doctor Mccoy started to jog off down the corridor again. She vaguely caught the words: “And this time I ain’t just gonna tear you a new one in your shirt, Jim-boy, even if you’re hidin’ under pointy-ears’ bed again.”

Before she even had time to recover, a shirtless Russian man swam before her vision.  
“Sulu! This is Miss Crawendik, de new science recruit!” Chekov grinned at his friend, oblivious of the trauma that little scene had just inflicted.  
“Nice to meet you.” Sulu smiled. The hand that had _touched_ the honoured controls of the Enterprise shook her own.  
“She got given de wrong qvarter number. I’ll help her find her vay and you can get de juicer going!”  
This had to be a dream. This had to be a weird, pseudo-realistic nightmare. She looked at the withered Mills and Boons book in her hand and back towards the Russian ice cavern Sulu had just retreated into.  
“Is…is it always like this?” Miss Cravendik finally peeped. Chekov just picked up her suitcase with an arm tattooed with a hammer and sickle.  
“Vell…is not alvays this qviet. It’s a shame! You just missed Jaegerbomb Tuesday!” He gave her a very Communist smile and she just hoped to whatever space deity was out there that she never stuck around for Jaegerbomb Tuesday.

***

Meanwhile, Jim Kirk burst merrily into Spock’s quarters like Uhura had once burst through a wall as the Incredible Hulk. “Oh Spock?”  
The Vulcan, who still felt as though he had side effects from naked Jim Kirk pictures and the most seductive smoulder that had ever existed, snapped out of his meditation. He was immediately met with the sight of his commanding officer’s perky nipples, which did not help his dilemma.  
“What can I do for you Captain?”  
Jim had many, creative ideas, but the only thing he said was simply “Merry early Christmas!” and handed his Science Officer the box.  
“I do not celebrate your tradition of gift giving and receiving, however your sentiment is appreciated.” He took the box with a touch of curiousity. That telepath could already feel there was something alive in there. If it was a tribble, he was going to hurl the guvik Captain into the Medical Bay, where Doctor Mccoy was no doubt waiting to stab him with a hypospray.  
“Go on, Spock.” That smile was illogical. Which no doubt meant the gift was illogical.

Jim Kirk almost felt his heart melt into Christmas brandy sauce when Spock’s expression flipped from skeptical to as close to pleasantly surprised as a Vulcan could get as he saw the tiny black kitten in the box. As soon as it saw Spock, the little lady began a deep, thunderous purr. She happily fit in one Vulcan hand. Jim beamed.  
“Captain. Your… gift is very adequate. I shall treat her with the utmost of care.” Warm brown eyes met hazel eyes for a long count of seconds. Jim found he was not breathing correctly. The memory of Spock pinning him up against a workbench of the Helsing Space Station and Spock’s lips hot on Jim’s neck slammed into him like Chekov had slammed into a very surprised werewolf. But the heartfelt gay moment was ruined by Doctor Mccoy tackling his Captain to the floor and stabbing him in the man-breast with a hypospray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DECEMBER IS HERE  
> TAKE MY SILLY CHRISTMAS STAR TREK FANFICTION  
> BE HAPPY  
> I LOVE YOU ALL xoxo


	2. In Which There Is Logical Kitten-Naming

**In Which There is Logical Kitten-Naming**

“You there! Cravendik!” The Deputy Science Officer called her over from the observation post. “Captain Kirk or Commander Spock need to see this full report in person. The test of space particles in this area are most unique. Take it to the bridge.”   
The woman handed her a PADD. Oh no. Cravendik didn’t think she could face the Captain and his nipples after yesterday’s fiasco.  
“On my way m’am.”  
Would Commander Spock be on the bridge? The Vulcan so heartless that he had once been stabbed in the heart and survived? That might be a relief, actually. If anyone was going to do things properly – follow regulations, treat the Captain with respect and, and well, be _normal_ – it had to be the Vulcan.

Her first few moments on the bridge were very promising. There was the Captain conferring with Starfleet about something, barrel chest held at bay by his shirt. Sulu and Chekov were side by side, with not a plant nor vodka in sight. Only the First Officer’s station was empty.   
Ahhh. It seemed like last night had certainly been some sort of terrible hallucination.  
And then Commander Spock followed her onto the bridge, sporting a tiny black kitten on one shoulder. Cravendik beheld her first sight of those fierce eyebrows. If she hadn’t been so confused by his companion, she might have combusted. A kitten?? The Captain’s eyes followed the back of the Vulcan until he reached his post.  
“I see you like your little friend then, Mr Spock.”   
Was that a _playful_ smirk on Jim Kirk’s face? Where was the rebuke for breaking Bridge regulations?? Were there Bridge regulations against pets?   
“I found that if I left her by herself she began to cry in a most distressing manner. As she is a very fine specimen, logic suggested that her presence upon the bridge would not be disturbing.”  
Had Spock, the super-intelligent, galaxy-acclaimed Vulcan just used logic to sneak his pet into work?? On the last ship she’d been on, he’d have been reprimanded and submitted for disciplinary action!   
“Oh, and there I was thinking Vulcans weren’t capable of _feeling_ distressed.” That smirk had gone on a sleigh ride across the line into flirtacious territory. What in all hell? She had to get this straight: The great Captain Kirk was flirting with his fearsome Vulcan First Officer who had a kitten perched on his shoulder on the bridge of the flagship of Starfleet. Had she boarded the wrong spaceship??  
“Captain, if you could accept that I found your voice pleasurable when I was a disembodied brain without illogically labelling me as emotional, then you can surely accept my reasoning for bringing this kitten here.” As he said this, the cat happily headbutted one fabulous Vulcan cheekbone. 

Cravendik had to use her PADD to cover her gaping mouth. Did that Vulcan say he’d been a _disembodied brain??_ And found the Captain’s voice……this was worse than the porn she’d been given last night! Sulu and Chekov just exchanged knowing glances. The Captain looked momentarily speechless. If it hadn’t been impossible for an emotionless Vulcan, she could have sworn she saw Commander Spock smirk.  
“Well, when you put it like that Mr Spock, it seems your reasoning is as logical as always.” Captain Kirk’s smoulder and Commander Spock’s eyebrow seemed to have their own romance going on. And the Captain seemed to be putting his hands on show for Mr Spock too. Cravendik had read up a little bit on Vulcans before boarding, and that was literally like putting your tits in a straight man’s face. Not that there seemed to be any straight men on board this ship. The Starship Enterprise, more like the Starship Enterguys. Was this ship under the influence of a weird space anomaly or something?? It was nothing like the rumours of grandeur, strict regulations and ferociously disciplined officers!!  
“So what have you called the little darling?” Uhura rose from her post – negligence of duty, but why was Cravendik even counting these things anymore – and petted the purring kitty.  
“I thought I would name her Nesh-Kur.”  
“But that just means black in Vulcan, doesn’t it?” Uhura smiled as tiny claws batted at her fingers.  
“Owing to her pigment, it seems a highly logical choice of name.” Spock caressed a tiny ear with one long finger. 

It was only then Cravendik realized the box the Captain had been carrying last night had emitted a mewling noise. Since when did Starship Captains give their First Officers kittens for Christmas? Was that even allowed?  
“Captain, I have a report from the science labs here. They requested that you or Commander Spock view the full log in person.” She finally found her voice as she gradually lost her sanity.  
“Ahh, Miss Cravendik, if I’m correct?” He flashed an utterly charming smile. If she hadn’t been slowly going insane, that charm might have worked on her. But right now the only working charm would be coffee. Buckets of it.  
“Yes, Captain.” It felt like her face was burning. Not from the handsome, legendary Captain in front of her, but…something icy flashed down her spine as she caught Commander Spock’s cold gaze. Then he turned back to his post and everything returned to normal. What the heck.   
“Captain, I am getting a primitive distress call from planet Ujaran One, Sector Four.” Uhura intoned.  
Kirk’s brows furrowed. “As far as I know, there are no life forms capable of making such a call on Ujaran One. Mr Spock?” 

The Vulcan and his kitten faced the Captain. “We are the first ship to explore this quadrant of the galaxy in-depth, sir. Scans show that Ujuran One is an M class planet trapped in an ice age that has been in duration for over two hundred thousand years. It is possible that if life is sustained by sentient beings, it is hidden from our scanners. However, this is only speculation given the limited data.”  
Nesh-Kur just purred into his collarbone. Finally! Some orderly space talk. Well, apart from the kitten.  
“Alright, set a course for Ujuran One. Yellow Alert, all systems stand by.”  
“Keptin, dere is an object of some kind drifting in space, co-ordinates 589.6 by 242.3.” Chekov called.  
“Onscreen, Mr Chekov, full magnification.” Who was this man who ran through the corridors with a kitten and Mills and Boons in one moment, then became a pillar of authority in the next? On the screen, what looked like a deer appeared. A deer in all but three facts – One: It was surrounded by a transparent globe. Two: It had eight legs. Three: It was a bright, pulsing, neon red. It also, somehow, looked very sad.  
“It appears to be a life form surrounded by a natural, decompressed chamber containing oxygen-nitrogen Captain.” Didn’t any other member of the crew find it unsettling that the Vulcan Commander’s ass was up in the air half the time? It seemed not, especially not the Captain. “However, the supply of oxygen within the transparent chamber has reached a critical level. If we do not beam them aboard, they will die in the next 10.36 seconds.”  
“Kirk to transporter room. Scotty, can you get a fix on the alien? Co-ordinates 589.6 by 242.3.”  
“She’s locked an’ loaded, Cap’n.”

Cravendik’s elation from hearing the voice of the expert engineer was dampened by the inappropriate terminologies. Maybe she was still dreaming.  
“Transport immediately. Uhura, get a security and medical team to the transporter bay. Mr Spock and…Miss Cravendik accompany me. This should be some interesting field experience for you.” Kirk shot her the friendliest of smoulders and rose from his chair, frosty Vulcan at his shoulder in less than a second.

And so Persephone Cravendik found herself, dazed and confused on her first full day on the Enterprise, marching toward the transporter room with the Captain and First Officer (plus kitten) to investigate a weird alien life form firsthand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spock was a disembodied brain in the episode, well, Spock's Brain lol :P   
> Anyhoo, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I would love to hear what you thought of it, so leave a comment if you like n.n But as always, thank you so much for reading and stay fantastic my buddies o((*^▽^*))o


	3. The Invasion of Mistletoe Begins

**The Invasion of the Mistletoe Begins**

“How is our guest, Mccoy?” Jim Kirk strode over to the deer-thing’s makeshift cot like the awe-inspiring, youngest Captain in Starfleet he was. Cravendik could just see eight, glowing red hooves poking over the edge.  
“I’m a doctor, not a vet.” How did Doctor Mccoy get away with this?? Did he have some kind of regulation immunity? Did he illegally threaten people with medical incapacitation if they did not let him be as insubordinate as he wanted to be? Cravendik looked between Commander Spock and Captain Kirk for some kind of rebuke. But just like the kitten, which had curled up against Mr Spock’s neck and promptly fallen asleep, there was nothing. How – how did Starfleet allow this?  
“But, I can tell you this creature is alive and has the capability to store and exert a huge amount of energy – it could and probably did power that pod it arrived in.” The doctor continued. “We’re just getting oxygen, electrolytes and nutrients into its system now. It should be awake soon.”

Why the Medbay had a terrifying display of what looked like ancient scalpels and knives beside the patient beds escaped Cravendik completely. But then Ensign Chekov had a slave-cage in his Russian ice den of vodka and sin. Cravendik was still conviced that this was a terrible, terrible dream and she would soon wake up back on the Ashley Science Station. Then, in a mist of glittering, Disney-like beauty, she’d be called aboard a sparkling ship, where everyone saluted the Captain, the Vulcan First Officer didn’t try to eyebrow her to death for looking at the Kirk, nobody gave her porn and the medical officers didn’t hunt down their patients with tribal skill and practise wanton insubordination. What had gone so wrong?  
“Do we know its point of origin?” Captain Kirk’s hair literally sparkled. A passing medical officer bowed low to the shining Hair. What??? Nobody else even seemed to notice! Maybe she really was mad.  
“Sensors indicate that its point of origin was Ujaran One, sir, our current heading.” Commander Spock reported. The same medical officer then genuflected to the Vulcan’s eyebrows. Yes, they were rather formidable. But really? _Really?_ However Cravendik’s mental breakdown was interrupted by the voice of a deer inside her head. Yet another situation she had never expected to be in. Little did she know what the day had in store for her.

^Hello humans^  
“Did you all hear that, sirs?” Cravendik really really hoped that this insane ship hadn’t suddenly but not surprisingly snapped her and now she was hearing voices.  
“Yes, I heard it.” Doctor Mccoy checked the fluorescent red deer. “It’s coming around now.”  
^My name is Hrolfr from the planet Jul^  
“How did you come to be so far out in space, Hrolfr, and how do you know our species?” Why Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were almost joined at the hip in this huge Medbay, Cravendik had no idea. Oh, unless they were enormously gay for each other. She almost submitted herself for disciplinary action just for having such sarcastic, undisciplined thoughts about her commanding officers. Maybe this ship was infectious. Oh no.  
^We visited your planet a long time ago, before its technological advances. As for me being in space, the others did not approve of my pigment. I could not stand to be on the planet with them anymore, so I left. I did not expect anyone to find me.^ A big, glassy tear rolled out of the deer-alien’s eye and down its pulsing fur. With a _prrrt_ Nesh-Kur plopped off Commander Spock’s shoulder and nuzzled up to the alien.  
“Well you don’t have to worry about bigotry or discrimination here, Hrolfr.” Captain Kirk looked like he wanted to pimp-slap the entire population of Ujaran One – or Jul, as it seemed to be to the natives. “Among our people, it is actions that define a being, not race, gender or appearance!”

 

Oddities aside, Captain Kirk was starting to grow on her. The alien deer seemed to give a little smile in their minds and then drifted back into sleep.  
“Alright Bones, you tell me if Hrolfr wakes up. I’ll be on the bridge.” The Captain and First Officer turned as one, single minded being, and headed toward the exit. Cravedik decided that she didn’t want to know why Captain Kirk was calling his Chief Medical Officer ‘Bones’. Gory or kinky, Cravendik had been subjected to enough weirdness today.  
“Wait a second! Jim, Spock….” Mccoy was grinning like either a maniac or a Cheshire cat. It was difficult to tell whether everybody aboard this godforsaken ship was insane or not. 

Somewhere deep down in Engineering, Scotty frowned. Had somebody just thought of his beautiful, shining prize of a ship as ‘godforsaken’? Maybe he should prepare the garbage chute.

Back in the Medbay, Doctor Mccoy pointed up at the doorway Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were standing beneath. “Look! Mistletoe!”  
Cravendik was one hundred percent certain that if she looked close enough, a tiny stamp saying ‘Grown In Russia’ would be visible.  
“I do not understand what the significance of leaves from an obligate hemiparasitic plant from the order of Santalales is, Doctor Mccoy.” The Vulcan looked up. What was Doctor Mccoy’s game here? Did he want the First Officer and Captain to kiss in front of him??  
“Well, Mr Spock, it’s a human tradition that when two people accidentally stand beneath this plant at Christmas…they kiss.” Captain Kirk had a flirty and verrrry slightly hopeful look on his extremely expressive face. Cravendik wasn’t even surprised anymore. In fact she was more surprised that they weren’t already passionately making out.  
Spock’s eyebrow almost helicoptered off into space. Cravendik could feel the scientifically impossible power of that eyebrow raise from where she was standing. What was going on with this ship, seriously.

“Red Alert, Red Alert. All crew to Red Alert stations.” Lieutenant Uhura’s voice saved the Captain and First Officer from snogging under the mistletoe. Nesh-Kur jumped off Hrolfr’s cot and bounded up on to her Vulcan’s shoulder.  
“Well, look at that! She knows where her station is.” Captain Kirk tickled the kitten under the chin.  
“You did choose an exceptional specimen, Captain.” The Vulcan led the way toward the outer door.  
“I like to go the extra mile for my crew.” Forget kissing. These two were vigorously shagging each other with their eyes.  
“Are they – “ Cravendik began, unsure of whether to use the term dating, banging or married. She shouldn’t be asking, but the insanity of this ship seemed to have kicked her common sense out the window for a minute.  
“Soon.” The doctor rubbed his hands together like a mad scientist (which he probably was?) and returned to his glow-in-the-dark patient. “Soon.”  
Was it too late to transfer to the U.S.S Endeavor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epic story continues.  
> :D  
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter, I would love to hear what you thought of it! Comments make my day! Stay awesome my homies (●‿●✿)


	4. Disciplinary Action Is Just Trash

**Disciplinary Action Is Just Trash**

“Bridge, situation report.” Captain Kirk bounded into his chair. Cravendik had followed her Commanding Officers onto the bridge because…she wasn’t really sure….where she was meant to go. And these officers seemed ridiculously lax on rules anyway. It was her first day and there had been kittens, telepathic neon red deer, eye sex, eyebrow raises of inexplicable power and mistletoe (Grown in Russia). Was this an average, normal day on the U.S.S Enterprise? Maybe it was just because it was Christmas. Yes, in all the absurdity, she had forgotten it was Christmas Eve. Then again, how had she not noticed? Lieutenant-Commander Sulu and Ensign Chekov were wearing Santa hats (Chekov’s with a hammer and sickle printed on the front), while Lieutenant Uhura’s red uniform was edged with white instead of black. Several suspicious clumps of mistletoe were hanging in a line between the Science station and the Captain’s chair. Did the Captain know there was a black-market mistletoe trade going on in his ship? Or just a very busy pair of bridge officers who should be doing their jobs instead? Both should really warrant disciplinary action, but did that even exist on this ship?

“A storm of unknown properties disabled our sensors Captain.” The helmsman reported. Sulu and Chekov’s Komradery and Scotty’s love was pretty much what was keeping the Enterprise from crashing at this point. But Cravendik didn’t know this. Cravendik thought they were spiralling down to the fiery, space induced death that Doctor Mccoy had predicted years ago. Although after the sheer madness she’d been subjected to on this ship in less than 24hrs, death would be a nice little reprieve. “We were just about to commence orbit sequence around the planet when this phenomenon occurred.”  
“Scotty, put the thrusters in full reverse. Get us out of this cloud!” Captain Kirk commanded as Mr Spock pretty much did a slut drop to his scanner. Not that Cravendik had anything against slut-dropping Vulcans, but it really just made her want to get a giant stamp labelled ‘INAPPROPRIATE’ and slap it on Commander Spock’s booty. Lieutenant-Commander Sulu and Ensign Chekov’s Santa hats and Chekov’s _literal slave_ , who seemed to be dressed as a Christmas elf, also warranted that same stamp. Not to mention the forest of mistletoe that seemed to be hanging from the ceiling and, of course, Nesh-Kur.

The viewing screen cleared as they backed out of the cloud.  
“Captain, all instruments are functioning normally again.” If Commander Spock hadn’t been Vulcan and – well, _Vulcan_ , Cravendik would have betted the last dregs of her sanity that he’d actually calculated the best angle for the Captain to view his butt from. Maybe she was just imagining things. Maybe it was all in her head. Yes. All in her head. “It appears that this phenomenon is encircling the planet. This could very well be what is blocking out scanners of the surface and what is trapping whoever is sending the distress call.”  
“Doctor Mccoy to the bridge.”  
“Yes, doctor?” Captain Kirk snapped away from his First Officer’s mezmerising booty. No, it was all in her head. Come on, Cravendik.  
“Hrolfr is awake and he says he can guide the ship to an area where our transporters will work. It seems like even though they bullied him outta town, he still wants to help them.”  
“I see. Bones, is he strong enough to power his craft?" Kirk suddenly froze, as if he were getting one of the fluorescent deer’s mind-messages. “It seems so. Hrolfr’s telepathy is rather handy, I must say.”  
“Are you sure you want to risk it, Jim? In a storm like that, you could lose the ship over a distress beacon.” Since when did a medical officer get to question where the Captain was driving the ship? Perhaps the command team romance was in her head, but what the heck was with Mccoy?? Maybe everyone really all lived in fear of the CMO. What was he capable of? What happened when he got angry? Was the nickname ‘Bones’ anything to do with it? So many questions that Cravendik really didn’t want the answers to.  
“Hrolfr’s people are down there Bones. Even if they are prejudiced, they seem to need our help. As a doctor, I thought you might like to help people in need.” The whole bridge crew sucked in a gleeful breath as Captain Kirk sassed his medical officer. They even started… _passing around bets??_ Spock seemed be staring at his Captain with what could have been pride, very gay love or trying to calculate the ass-to-chair angle better. This ship needed to be reported. It had serious problems.

“Listen Jim, all I’m saying is that our record with distress beacons ain’t exactly clean – remember those aliens who made Spock evil, then made him possess Nurse Chapel like a goddamn logical poltergeist as they tried to steal you and that doctor’s bodies?” Mccoy queried and Chekov seemed to be nodding in agreement. “Or the tentacle creatures that turned the entire crew into hexagonal prisms and then tried to take over the galaxy? Or that mad hologram scientist who made Spock dress in a maid’s outfit and go through Wonderland? They were all distress beacons!”  
What. The. 

Doctor Mccoy had to be making this up. This was all some terrible joke they played on new recruits. Commander Spock _in a maid’s outfit??_ Soon enough one of the crew was going to yell ‘Surprise!’ and this ship would start to function like a normal, Starfleet vessel. Otherwise, she was going to go back to her quarters and drown herself in coffee or something stronger.  
“May I remind you that the purpose of an exploration vessel is to be intrepid.” Mr Spock, who had now wandered over to stand unneccessarily close to the Captain’s chair, interjected. “If you wish to practise what you seem to call medicine in a less intrepid environment, I suggest you take your work onto an interplanetary transport ship, or somewhere that might fit a more tedious schedule, Cinderella.”   
The arm of the Captain’s chair literally began to smoke from the sheer burn it had just transmitted down to Sickbay. Apparently the Enterprise didn’t abide by the laws of physics either.  
“Gentlemen, a Captain could forget he’s a Captain with you two on board.” Captain Kirk’s eyes almost turned into lovehearts as they looked up at Spock. Had the Captain intended for that to come out as a pick-up line? Because somehow it _really_ sounded like one. “Mccoy, send Hrolfr out. We’ll see what his people want and try to convince them to take him back. Kirk out.”

***

“Captain’s Log: The alien named Hrolfr has led the Enterprise through the phenomenon blocking our instruments to what seems like a pocket of safety. Scanners are now picking up life-forms on Ujaran One, as well as the continuous distress call. We have beamed the exhausted alien aboard and are now preparing a landing party to go and investigate. First Officer Spock and I will beam down with navigator Ensign Chekov, helmsman Sulu – as their jobs have been rendered void for the time being, and both have arctic experience – and science recruit Miss Cravendik for additional readings.”  
Captain Kirk finished his log, and the five of them (plus Commander Spock’s shoulder kitten) piled into the turbolift. The Vulcan had a strange expression on his face, as though this lift reminded him of a fond memory. Maybe the Captain and First Officer had violently made love here. No. No. This was all in her mind, which she was slowly losing. But little did Cravendik know just how close to the truth she was. The doors swooshed open as they reached their destination.

“ – sir I’m sorry! I know I should have.” An engineer protested. He was being dragged by the scruff of his neck by the great miracle worker Mr Scott who, according to myth, had an Iron Man suit. How he’d got it, where he’d got it from or what he did with it no-one knew. But this was the Enterprise. Or as Cravendik now saw it, Starfleet’s best kept secret loony bin. Or maybe some myths were just myths.  
“Aye, but ye know the rules, laddy. Did ye clean me wee baerns after your shift?” The Chief Engineer raised his eyebrows like a scolding mother. His wee baerns? Either this whole ships was using innuendos and was completely gay, or he was speaking a language she really didn’t understand.  
“No, Mr Scott.” The man pouted.  
“Then ye know what comes next, don’t ye lad?” Mr Scott said in a rather matter-of-fact way and opened a panel labelled ‘TRASH’ in the side of the corridor. What in all Mars was going on?? Cravendik was pretty sure that no other star cruiser had a trash chute that large.  
“Yes Mr Scott.” The other Engineer sighed and slid one leg into the chute. He then noticed his commanding officers and gave a little salute. “Captain, Commander Spock.”  
“Mr Kamen, isn’t it?” Captain Kirk gave a warm smile. Didn’t he realize that one of his crew members was _literally climbing into the trash?_ The engineer nodded. “I’m sure we’ll see you around soon, Mr Kamen.”  
And with that, Mr Kamen whooshed down into the darkness of the garbage. Ok, when Cravendik had thought there should be disciplinary action on this ship, she didn’t mean actually throwing people out. Only the excitement of her first landing party mission kept Cravendik from fainting from the sheer absurdity of the situation.   
“Transporter’s all up an’ ready Captain.” 

Nobody seemed at all fazed by the trashed engineer scene as they were all handed landing party gear. Even the logical Commander Spock seemed to just regard it as normal!  
“Captain Kirk, I… “ She looked between him and the garbage chute.  
“Don’t worry, my dear, he’ll be fine.” The Captain gently guided her on to the transporter pad like she was the weird one here. His hair twinkled at her like a Christmas star. “Just one of Scotty’s disciplinary tactics.”  
“I have been in de trash before, when I was _wery_ green.” Ensign Chekov concurred. “It vasn’t much fun, but I learned.”  
“Aye, it works!” The Scotsman beamed. “The Enterprise, me beautiful lass, is as spick and span as the day she was made!”   
“Yes indeed. Now, Mr Scott, I believe we have a distress call to answer.” The Captain smiled as if nothing was against Starfleet regulations. Come on, Starfleet _had_ to have a regulation against throwing actual people in the trash. But before she could consider it more, the world dissipated into golden sparkles.

The next thing she felt was cold. _Freezing_ cold. Even her thermoregulated science uniform couldn’t keep out the biting chill.  
“Ensign Chekov?” No reply. The wind whirled snow into her eyes, and she had to fight to stay on her feet. “Lieutenant-Commander Sulu? Captain? Commander Spock?”  
Only the icy blast answered her. Cravendik huddled against the side of an ice pillar. She was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho ho ho, a Christmas cliffhanger! Hope all you readers are having fun and getting injected with the holiday spirit like a mad Doctor McCoy attacking Jim with a hypospray lol. I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter, so leave a comment if you like! Stay awesome my buddies (灬╹ω╹灬)


	5. The Benefits of Being A Russian

**The Benefits of Being A Russian**

“Cravendik to Enterprise, Cravendik to Enterp-p-p-prise.” Her teeth chattered as she forged a way forward. Static hissed like Spock hissed inside his head whenever Nurse Chapel touched his hands. “Cravend-d-dik to Ensign Chek-kov.”  
She rounded a corner and beheld a very odd sight. Or perhaps a very normal sight for an Enterprise crew member. 

There, lying in the snow beside an ice lake, was Chekov. His mighty Russian chest was bare as the snow broke like a redshirt’s neck across it. He had some how found a pair of shades, and in one hand was a bright blue cocktail (plus mini umbrella and straw) in a glass carven from ice. Helmsman Sulu was warming his hands on the Russian man’s stomach, and seemed to be wearing Ensign Chekov’s shirt on top of his own. This was a weird, cold-induced hallucination. Unless the navigator was an alien, there was no way he wasn’t getting hypothermia right now. Her hallucination spotted her, sat up and lifted his dark glasses.  
“Ah, hello Mees Cravendik!” He waved her over and patted the snow beside him. “It’s vonderful veather down here!”  
“Come over here and get warm.” Sulu’s very real hands took hers and pulled her down beside the shirtless Russian. Well, this couldn’t get any weirder, so she put her hands on his skin. Chekov’s stomach was like a hot water bottle.  
“H-how do you even cope on the Enterprise?”   
“He wears ice-packs under his clothes.” Sulu shrugged and gave her the Ensign’s shirt.

Somewhere in the distance a gutteral growl echoed. They all stopped and listened. Chekov took a sip of his drink that smelled suspiciously like absinthe or maybe turpentine. Apparently Russian survival courses included ice-sculpture and insanely fast alcohol brewing techniques. Some snow-beast snarled then – a _THWACK_ that resounded with homosexual anger. Well, at least they knew where the Captain and Commander Spock were.   
“Come on, it was from this direction.” Cravendik stood up and scanned around with her tricorder. Both she and Sulu huddled beside the pillar of Russian heat as they pushed forward against the wind. 

Silhouetted on the snow-plain below them was Commander Spock with the Captain tossed over his shoulder like a dainty, kidnapped maiden. For once it wasn’t the Vulcan’s ass up in the air; all they could see of Captain Kirk at the present was his legs and his perfect, perfect booty. In fact, Cravendik could have sworn his ass would make a textbook parabola. But she should not think such thoughts about her Captain. He was her commanding officer.  
“Meester Spock, vat happened?”  
Even the Vulcan had a few green scrapes, but other than that absolutely fine. “It appears that the phenomenon surrounding the planet caused our landing party to scatter somewhat. I discovered that the Captain had fallen into a crevasse, so I climbed in to retrieve him. After carrying him to the surface, we were attacked by a native animal which I have subdued for now. However, it is mandatory that we find some sort of shelter, where the Captain can be tended and I can modify a communicator to cut through the interference.”  
Wow. If Cravendik learned anything that day, she learned not to get between the Vulcan and his Captain. Sheesh. They really had a lot of…bromance.  
“I picked up a mountain range on my tricorder scans sir, bearing 8 mark 6.5.” Even if everyone else was insane, she was going to do her job.  
“Very well. Lead on.”

***

 

“Spock…Spock?” Captain Kirk’s moans were either doze-induced or he was having a pretty good dream. Cravendik and company had found a labyrinth of caves; one with a couple of large boulders to somewhat sensually drape the Captain (and the little that was left of his shirt) across and to provide a table for Commander Spock. The Science Officer’s kitten popped up out of his collar with a _prrrt_ and bounded along the cave floor to their groaning superior . It snuffled and batted the Captain’s Sleeping Smoulder until all the officers had gathered around.  
“Spock…” Captain Kirk squinted at his First Officer and frowned. “You haven’t gone feral, have you?” 

What?? Cravendik shot the Commander a side-eye. He had gone feral before? Maybe he was currently feral. Maybe they’d all gone feral. That would explain pretty much everything. Sulu didn’t seem too wild though. He wasn’t rubbing oil all over himself and trying to take over a starship with a sword.   
“Captain, we are not 5,000 years in the past this time.” Commander Spock sighed and made a slightly irritated eyebrow gesture. “And Doctor Mccoy’s report on that occasion was quite unprofessionally vehement.”  
“Well, he said you did try to strangle him, Spock.” Captain Kirk sat up with a smoulder that actually created mist in the heated air. But even this scientific error didn’t match up to what these two were talking about! 5,000 years in the past? How…? “And, having been choked to death by you before, I find myself believing him.”  
“Indeed, Captain.” Commander Spock muttered as his eyebrow tried to escape his face. The Captain seemed particularly pleased and began to pet Nesh-Kur. Cravendik decided she really didn’t want to know the circumstances of this ‘asphyxiation’. Perhaps she should question why Mr Spock wasn’t currently serving jail time???

Little did she know that a homoerotic fighting match staged by and for T’Pou under the thin veneer of Pon Farr was what really caused it. Starfleet generally avoided incriminating violent, sexually frustrated Vulcans. Nobody in Starfleet wanted to get involved with violent, sexually frustrated Vulcans. Except one man. And boy was he in deep. Or something Vulcan was going to be deep in him in the near future.

“Keptin, ve are still picking up de distress call – it seems to be coming from vithin de mountains.” Ensign Chekov had removed his non-regulation sunglasses, but was still impossibly shirtless.  
“And Cravendik and I have been examining the cave interior, sir.” Lieutenant-Commander Sulu gestured at the crumbly red walls. “It seems that this rock is highly nutritional, once broken down, and it grows back…like some sort of plant-rock hybrid! I’ve taken some samples.”  
The botanist patted a sealed bag happily. Cravendik liked the helmsman. He seemed the most normal out of everybody. But knowing her luck, he’d have a giant beanstalk growing in his cabin or something.  
“Life-forms could undoubtably be sustained by it, Captain.” The Science Officer nodded and as they all rose. The command team seemed to pass a message through telepathy or eye sex or whatever those two did on a regular basis. Couldn’t only bonded Vulcans telepathically communicate with their partners? Cravendik sighed. Since when was anything normal on the Enterprise.  
“Hrolfr’s people?” Captain Kirk’s recently ravished eyes narrowed.  
“It would seem so.”

As if on cue, there was a patter of hooves. Around the corner appeared several deer-like creatures. They all had eight legs, but instead of being a bright, neon red like Hrolfr, they were the same ruddy hue as the cave walls.  
A chorus of ^Hello humans!^ tinkled on her mind.  
^It has been a long time since we have seen humans!^ One of the deer stepped forward. They were not small beasts – the deer, minus its rather formidable-looking horns, was at the same height as Captain Kirk’s savage, free nipples. ^My name is Danser. Merry Christmas!^  
“Er, Merry Christmas.” Captain Kirk side-eyed Commander Spock and continued. “I am Captain James T Kirk from the U.S.S Enterprise. This is Commander Spock, my First Officer. We have one of your kind on our ship – Hrolfr, if I’m not mistaken.”  
Telepathic giggling echoed in the minds of the landing party.  
^That weirdo? We thought we’d finally gotten rid of him!^ Danser trotted up to them and the Captain looked like he was going to boldly, bodily hurl himself at a deer. ^Come on, we’ll take you to Jolnir, our boss! Maybe you can help us with the atmosphere problem!^  
“Take us to Jolnir.” 

So here Cravendik was on her first landing mission, following bigoted, eight legged deer through some caves with a shirtless Russian, a very nearly shirtless Captain, a Vulcan and his kitten and the man who had created the Giant Space Foil strategy. Not what she’d imagined. In fact, if she had imagined this, Cravendik would probably have submitted herself for medical help. But it seemed, on the Enterprise, you didn’t submit yourself for medical help. Medical help hunted you down like a ravenous predator, pounced on you and ended your misery one way or another.  
“Captain, I have a theory that the language banks on board the Enterprise might support.” Commander Spock intoned.  
“It’s a pity our communicators won’t cut through the interference.” Captain Kirk sighed, and the emotionless Vulcan almost looked offended. A slow, extremely loving, completely not gay smile crept over the Captain’s face. “Oh Spock, you modified one, didn’t you?” 

Behind the pair with the homoerotic stare, Sulu seemed to be showing Chekov some kind of plant beneath his shirt. What??  
“Of course.” The Vulcan handed his superior a communicator which literally glowed with the power of Science. What even was real anymore.  
“Well done, Spock, well done.” The Captain shot his First Officer a look that literally would have flambéd a human and flipped open the device. “Kirk to Enterprise, Kirk to Enterprise.”  
“Uhura here, sir.”  
“Uhura, run the words – “  
“Jul, Jolnir and Hrolfr – “  
“Through our language system, please.”  
Good lord, they were even filling in each other’s sentences.  
“Computing…Captain, the results. Jul is the old Norweigan word for Christmas, Jolnir is an ancient term for Odin or Yule figure – an archaic, well, Santa Claus…and Hrolfr is the antiquated form of….Rudolf, sir.” The growing disbelief in Lieutenant Uhura’s voice was very odd. What, with the Enterprise having gone back 5,000 years in time or whatever, with Spock being a disembodied brain and tentacle creatures turning the entire crew into prisms, Cravendik thought the crew would be mildly surprised by the fact that they had somehow walked into a Christmas story on Christmas Eve. Oh dear. Cravendik could sense herself turning into a sarcastic cynic already. She had to fight this…madness.  
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Captain Kirk smiled and snapped the communicator closed like Chekov had snapped one Jaegerbomb Tuesday, jettisoned himself from the ship and conquered an enitre planet for Mother Russia. “Well boys and girls, I hope you’ve all been good! It looks like we’re going to visit Santa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spock goes feral in All Our Yesterdays, Spock was a brain in, well, Spock's Brain, and the crew got turned into prisms by tentacle monsters in By Any Other Name. I don't even need to make these crazy things up :D Hope you're enjoying this and thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments! Y'all are amazing. Stay awesome buds 8)


	6. T’Pou Writes Fanfiction For Santa

**T’Pou Writes Fanfiction For Santa**

“Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!”   
Cravendik refused to believe that the rotund, bearded man in a red and white outfit was actually Father Christmas. There was no way this way real. But the other officers seemed to quite happily accept it. Even Mr Spock seemed to believe in Santa.  
“That is Ded Moret, de Russian original Father Christmas.” Ensign Chekov whispered to her with a confident nod. Sulu seemed to have momentarily vanished. Cravendik didn’t even bother wondering where or how. It couldn’t be weirder than what was already going on. “Don’t beliewe vat eweryone else said, he was alvays originally from Russia.”

Cravendik was beginning to wonder how Chekov had passed Starfleet exams, as the Russian brainwashing he seemed to have undergone probably led him to believe that the entire Earth had been made in Russia. Then again….where _had_ Santa really come from?  
“I was just packing some toys for the children of Gayvenack when Spredetibehoret, who you Earth people might know as Dasher told me about your arrival, and you couldn’t have come sooner!” The big man chuckled. “It’s Christmas Eve or Galheyut Forantal, as the Gayvenacki call it, and this wretched cloud won’t let my craft out of orbit!”   
“Listen here, Jolnir – “ Captain Kirk paced forward with his Vulcan, as always, one inch behind. Did the world explode if they were separated? Little did Cravedik know of the satanic bitchiness that engulfed Spock, should his Jim be whisked away.  
“Oh, do call me Father Christmas or Santa, my dear James! Sometimes I wish humans hadn’t advanced so far that I had to move on. You lot were jolly good fun!” The big man chuckled and pointed above Spock and the Captain at the high cave ceiling. “And look! What a lucky pair you are!”

How the hell??? A bundle of mistletoe (and Cravendik swore she could see the Made In Russia stamp, even from this ridiculous distance) was pinned up impossibly high, exactly – and she meant _exactly_ – above the command team. Sulu had reappeared in their midst like a matchmaking plant ninja. An elf-like creature that came up to Cravendik’s shin trotted by, carrying what looked like a blow-torch. Well, she’d seen it all now.  
“Never mind that, we have one of your deer aboard our ship.” Captain Kirk’s eyes flashed, and Mr Spock’s eyebrow gave an ever so slightly disappointed twitch. How were they not dating yet, seriously? “He was bullied, driven out almost to his death, and you, you whose entire philosophy revolves around kind acts and cruel ones, allowed this to happen!”

Beneath his beard, Santa wore a mortified expression. Usually the great Beard concealed all, but it couldn’t hide his distress.  
“Ho ho ho, I have heard nothing of this!” The big jolly man’s facial hair, that seemed to posess an unknown but quite formidable power, quivered threateningly at his deer. “Is it true, Danser?”  
^Well, he was weird, sir! His colour was all wrong and he glowed!^   
The other deer telepathically agreed, if a little sheepishly.  
“And we only got here, through your cloud, because of his glow!” Captain Kirk paced about and suddenly reminded Spock of his excellent and somewhat stimulating high heel strutting. Even from this distance, Santa could feel the aura of naughty, if subdued, thoughts from the Vulcan. But his glorious beard, which could very well be the actual beard of Odin, concealed his little smile. Some kinds of naughty were healthy.   
“You mean he’s of the same stock as Rudolph the Great?” Santa ho-ho-hoed and peered down at the other deer. “You deer know what this means?”  
^We won’t be able to get to Gavenack in time?^ Danser sat with a dejected thump on hig multi-legged butt. Fat tears began rolling from his gang’s dewy eyes. Spock’s kitten mewled sadly.^The children will be so miserable. Some of the poor families depend on our gifts to survive!^

None of the landing party ever expected to be surrounded by Santa’s sobbing space deer.  
“And you would do anything to get these gifts to the children?” Captain Kirk and Father Christmas exchanged a knowing glance.  
“Then, my eight-legged friends, I suggest you start rehearsing your apologies!” The big jolly man waggled a finger. Santa’s figger-waggle was so powerful, that it caused their Vulcan Commander’s eyebrows to wiggle in time with it. Spock then blinked, as if coming out of a trance. Or was Cravendik seeing things? She wasn’t sure that even Santa Claus had the power to control those dangerous things. And if he did, he certainly had enough power to take out the Enterprise. Then Cravendik blinked as though she were coming out of a trance. Seriously? Had she just considered Santa’s finger-waggle and Spock’s eyebrows to be more powerful than a starship? Little did she know.

^Our apologies?^ A different deer sniffled in their heads.   
“Yes indeed, ho ho ho! Because if Hrolfr and his glow can guide us through the strange cloud, we can get to Gavenack on time.” Santa turned to the landing party with a wink. “And we might even have time to stop by the Enterprise too!”  
“But you have to promise to be fair to him and accept him for what a who he is.” Captain Kirk sent a stern glance their way. Not as incapacitating as his Smoulder, but still formidable.  
“Or I might find myself in need of a deerskin jacket!” Santa ho-ho-hoed rather darkly at his sled team. For the first time in her life, Cravendik was slightly afraid of Father Christmas.  
^We’re so sorry! We’ll be better deer, we promise!^ Came the chiming, repentant replies.  
“Alright, I’ll contact the ship and ask him if he wants to come. I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t, but you are his people.” The Captain flipped open the communicator like Mccoy had once performed a medicinal tit-flip.  
“Don’t worry, James, son, I’ll take personal responsibilty for Hrolfr. After all as you said, I can’t abide discrimination! Not with my rules!” Santa puffed and patted something on an elf’s shoulder in morse code. The elf hurried away as Captain Kirk made the exchange with the ship. “And I can’t let you leave without a little something to take ho-ho-home!”

The elf came trotting back with a bag – well, a sack, she should probably say, if they were going to use Christmas terminology. Or maybe she was beginning to think in Enterprise euphamisms.   
“For you, James my dear lad!” Santa handed him a book with suspicious, curly pink font. The Captain’s cheeks went almost the same pink. Ho ho ho, looked like someone had found out what it was like to be handed porn. Little did she know that the volume was titled _Conquering the Defiant Vulcan Virgin_ and had a picture of a not completely unrecognizable human Starfleet Captain sprawled seductively beside a half-naked Vulcan on what very well could have been the Pon Farr sands. Little did anybody know that Captain Kirk was holding T’Pou’s recently published, covert fanfiction.  
“Captain, what – “  
“Nothing Spock.” Cravendik had never seen anybody look so shifty. “Just another one of those books to pester the good doctor with. I’d run out.”  
Captain Kirk’s smoulder bounced off the power of Spock’s eyebrows and KO’d a Christmas elf. Cravendik just nodded. Yup. Yes. She had gone completely and utterly insane. Maybe she would drink to forget. Maybe that’s what Jaegerbomb Tuesday was. That would make sense. Well, if anything on the blasted Enterprise made sense.

“And for you my dear Mr Spock! And a little treat for your little friend.” Santa handed the Vulcan a book and what looked like a catnip ball.   
“As generous as you are, sir, I – “ Commander Spock appeared to have read the title of the book. So had Sulu, who was peeking around the Vulcan’s shoulder.  
“An Advanced Guide to Humans, sir! That could come in handy!”   
Everybody, even Santa, expected Sulu to be smote out of existence by a vicious Vulcan eyebrow.  
“I will be surprised if it contains anything other than a large dedication of facts toward the illogical, irrational and over-emotional nature of humans, Mr Sulu.” Spock sighed. Nesh-Kurr had clambered down his arm and was sniffing the catnip ball, eyes full of hope. Or catnip-induced craziness. Santa just winked and continued.  
“Sulu and Chekov!” The big man pulled out two objects. The first, a large Make Your Own Vodka Kit (Ingredients Included) (Made in Russia) he handed to Chekov, who took it with a Communist grin.  
“Oh, vonderbar! My old one vas almost vorn out!” The Russian patted it as if it were his baby, then took an indignant look at the Captain’s raised eyebrows. “Wodka is wery good for all sorts of things, Keptin! And it’s not as dangerous as Gourd spirits.”  
 _Gourd_ spirits? Shouldn’t some crew member have noticed a fermenting gourd dripping pure alcohol and reported it? No, Cravendik reminded herself. These people are crazy.

The second item was satchels and satchels of seeds. Sulu really was grinning like Christmas had come early. Which, of course, it literally had.  
“And you, Miss Cravendik, ho ho ho!” He handed her a CHILL OUT MIX – SPACE’S BEST RELAXATION MUSIC FT. WHALES microtape attached to a bottle of coffee liquer. Wow. Exactly what she needed.  
“Thank you, uh, Santa.” Thank goodness the jolly fellow hadn’t handed _her_ porn or she might have just impaled herself on one of Spock’s ears from exasperation. Captain Kirk’s communicator bleeped as Santa ho-ho-hoed so enthusiastically, Cravendik wondered how he stayed so portly. Hopefully he didn’t ho ho ho too hard. The last thing they needed was a ho-ho-heart attack on their hands (or Doctor Mccoy’s Devastatingly Mythological Hands, as the case would probably be).  
“Uhura here, sir. Hrolfr is ready to beam down.”  
“And we are ready to beam up, Lieutenant.” The Captain and all the landing party (minus Commander Spock) sent a goodbye smile toward Santa Claus. Then they all dissipated in a thematic red and green shimmer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter my buddies! Hope it's been an entertaining, seasonal read and that y'all have got a laugh out of! Stay awesome everyone and thank you so much for all your comments and kudos so far - your comments specially really make my day, so tell me what you think if you like =^.^=


	7. The Return Of The Mistletoe

**The Return Of The Mistletoe**

The first thing Cravendik saw as she materialized back on board the Enterprise was an arm sticking out of the garbage chute proffering Scotch and lightly toasted haggis on a silver platter.  
“There, I told you we’d see Mr Kamen around soon enough.” Captain Kirk sent her a warm smile and patted her on the shoulder. The icy aura of Commander Spock’s jealousy was just enough to keep her from going completely insane. Then again, she had to be completely and utterly insane to actually feel her commanding officer trying to eyebrow her to death for the second time today. Maybe she should just accept it. Join them all in their gay madness.  
“Aye, Captain, he’s doin’ well.” Mr Scott took the platter and the disgraced officer climbed out of the trash. “Now lad, ye run along and have a wee scrub, then ye can give me baerns a wee scrub, hmm?”  
“Yes, Chief. Right away Chief.” Mr Kamen did a salute to practically everyone and scarpered. Too right. Then again, the trash might be a nice break from this batshit crazy ship. Hmm. Trash or ship? Cravendik decided that, without Engineer training, she didn’t know how to make haggis, so probably wouldn’t get out so easily. Ship it was.  
“Mees Crawendik!” Chekov snapped her out of the debate she never, ever thought she would be having with herself. The Captain and First Officer had vanished like a gay rainbow in a tornado down the corridor. “You haf your drink, I haf my wodka and Sulu has some Gourd Spirits! Vant to join us and ve can drink and toast de marshmallows zat vere inwented in Russia around my firepit? Uhura and Mees Rand are coming too!”  
Cravendik sighed. Cravendik’s soul sighed. She didn’t even bother wondering where his firepit was. “Alright then. That sounds like fun.”  
  
Sulu grinned so brightly that she got something comparable to snow-blindess for around 5 seconds. When the glare cleared, Penelope Cravendik realized something. Yes this ship and crew might not obey the laws of Starfleet. Hell, this ship and crew didn’t even obey the laws of physics. But they good, fun people. Maybe she wouldn’t go insane after all.

***

“Oh look, it’s my favourite dynamic duo.” Doctor Mccoy looked up from the Christmas pudding that was saturated with so much brandy that he could drink it out of a glass. He had hardly been able to believe his luck. Today, for once in his goddamn life, he hadn’t been ordered down onto the freeze-your-ass off planet and become a snowman rather than a doctor. It really must be Christmas. “Where to, Batman?”  
“Does that make Spock Robin, Bones?” Jim’s nipple winked at him and Mccoy sighed at the tattered shirt. Even the strip-club replica Captain’s shirts must be running out by now.  
“Now that would be a sight, wouldn’t it, Bones?” Jim shot his Vulcan a look that rivalled Chekov’s bonfire pit in heat. “I can just imagine Spock in tights.”  
Spock’s eyebrow pinged up his forehead like an arrow from a bow. Oh Jesus. Mccoy wanted to surgically remove his imagination for providing him with the mental image.  
“I bet you can.” The good doctor muttered and picked up a medical scanner. “Let me have a look at those scrapes, the both of you.”  
A skittering _thud_ resounded from somewhere by the floor. Spock’s kitten bounced back up and attacked a plushy green ball.  
“Is there a reason your cat’s gone mad, Spock?” The two of them allowed him (for once) to patch up their grazes. Looked like their Vulcan had punched someone’s lights out, but not the Captain’s this time.  
“Nesh-Kur received a toy infused with nepeta cataria, a herb that is somewhat recreationally enjoyable for the feline species. It is not damaging, however.” Spock pronounced ‘herb’ with an ‘h’, because herb starts with a freaking ‘h’.  
“You got your cat high?” Christmas Eve was blessed with Doctor Mccoy’s eyebrow raise and a grin.  
“The symbolic figure known as Father Christmas or Santa Claus bestowed the toy upon my kitten, doctor.” How Spock said that with such a logical expression, Bones would never know.  
“Santa got your cat high?” Now he’d heard it all. Mccoy just sighed as Spock opened his mouth to pour out more logical hooplah. “And on the topic of Santa, I got you something Spock.”  
Both Jim and the Vulcan looked far too surprised.  
“On account of not being able to get you a new personality, here.” He handed Spock the item. It even had a bow on it.  
“An eating utensil, doctor?” The hobgoblin frowned.  
“It’s a spork.” Jim touched Spock’s hands way too much as he tugged it from the First Officer. “A spoon and a fork combined. It even has Spock’s Spork etched into it.”  
  
Spock touched Jim’s hands way too much as the Vulcan retrieved it. Great. Now Spock and Jim were having hand sex over a Christmas spork.  
“You are quite illogical as always, doctor. But perhaps I will endeavour to find you a gift of similar value.” By the look of that devil, Mccoy was going to wake up to find a dog bone with Bones’ Bone carved into it via Vulcan eyebrow. Little did he know that this was exactly what he was going to get.  
“Thanks, Spock, I look forward to it.” The good doctor sighed and slurped some more pudding booze. “Now off you two go and get into some less tattered and green-stained clothing before our poker game.”  
Why they were trying to teach a Vulcan poker was far beyond the reaches of Mccoy’s knowledge. But so long as Chekov and Sulu had nailed some mistletoe above the right seats, it should prove to be a pretty interesting evening. Speaking of mistletoe, he hoped they’d notice other places he and the bridge crew had strategically placed the stuff.  
  
  
“So, Santa Claus is real.” Jim Kirk yawned as he strode along, flashing his hands around in a way he _swore_ made Spock go just a little greener.  
“It would seem so, or at least a being who chooses civilizations who are not technologically advanced enough to make recordings above that of a hand-drawing or a story.” Spock remarked. “And when they reach the level of advancement that allows these factors, the being simply moves on, leaving only myths and legends that a society of such advancement would acknowledge as a fictitious character created by the imagination and ignorance of their predecessors.”  
“Very good analysis, Mr Spock. Although I’m not sure whether Starfleet will believe our logs.” He beamed at his handsome Vulcan friend as they stopped outside their quarters. Nesh-Kur streaked past them and practically flew into Spock’s room.  
“They will have no choice, Captain. We simply report our experiences, no matter how strange.” Spock’s deep, brown eyes suddenly snapped up to the ceiling. “It seems that wherever we go, the hemiparasitic plant that Doctor Mccoy is so fond of is attached to the ceiling.”

There wasn’t just one cluster of mistletoe. The entire ceiling between the Captain and First Officer’s quarters was green. Well, well, well. The corridor was empty. Maybe he should try his luck. Jim prepared his Vulcan-taming eyelash-bat.  
“You’re part human, Spock. Perhaps you should try out our traditions too.” Jim’s nipples glistened seductively with inexplicable, eternal oil as he caught the Vulcan’s shoulder.  
“Human traditions, Captain?” The nipple-flirting was met with a rather seductive eyebrow raise.  
“Well, for instance, kissing someone under this particular plant.” The Captain took in his Science Officer’s totally unemotional bewilderment and sighed. “Never mind, Spock. I’ll be back in a minute.”  
Jim was about to turn into his quarters, but the Vulcan stepped closer, still a picture of confusion.  
“Is this human tradition particularly important?”  
“Well, Christmas is about love and happiness, Mr Spock.” Jim said like the romantic, poetic ball of sunshine he was. He just hoped that Spock’s Vulcan hearing couldn’t hear his heart galloping like one of Santa’s reindeer – or space deer. “Kissing is a nice way of showing that.”  
“Indeed.” Those Vulcan eyes seemed fixed on his hands. Jim Kirk felt that pleased warmth swell through him again. He liked Spock’s fascination with his hands. It was almost cute.“Then perhaps I can endeavour to meet the requirements of the tradition by half, as it were, as I am only half human.”  
  
Personally, Jim didn’t care if Spock pecked him on the cheek or licked his face or whatever; so long as he was within French-Dipping vicinity, that Vulcan was going to be French dipped. By ‘accident’. But Spock and his tongue didn’t come anywhere near Jim’s face. The Vulcan swept up his Captain’s hand and kissed it ever so gently. He then turned on his heel and vanished into his quarters. Jim just about swooned like a dainty Iowan flower. His hand was tingling all over in a way he didn’t even know hands could tingle. In a Spock-induced daze, the Captain waltzed into his quarters, casually tore off the remaining shreds of his shirt, and tumbled like the dramatic potato he was onto the bed.  
Best. Christmas present. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, and Happy Holidays to everyone! *☆ヽ(‘∀’ｏ)＞o Hope you all enjoyed this crazy Christmas fling (we even got a festive kiss!) - if you did, why not leave a comment? I'd love to know what you thought of it! n.n Stay awesome my buddies (◕ᴗ◕)ﾉ₍⁽ˊᵕˋ⁾₎❆


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